Light em up
by Bella'sExecutioner
Summary: Prom is a rite of passage, but Caroline Forbes and her fellow seniors are about to go through a completely different kind of ritual. Crossover with Supernatural. Rated M for violence.
1. Prologue

**This is just something that popped into my head. Just for fun. It's unbeta'd, so excuse my mistakes. Big thanks to Kharizzmatik for introducing me to Klaus and for all our writing sessions. **

**Enjoy and thanks for reading.**

She fell back against the side of the truck bed. The duct tape around her wrists cut into her skin as she tried to tug her arms apart. Her head throbbed and black spots kept spreading through her vision.

It all happened so fast. One minute she was flirting with the guy manning the prom queen voting station and the next she was here. This was supposed to be the happiest night of her young life. Prom. The one damn night she could just be young and dance with her friends.

Gasoline fumes stung her nose and she felt rather than saw more people fall into the back of the pickup truck with her. There were moans and muffled cries, telling her that her truck-bed-fellows were also tied up. There was no way to count how many of them had survived, all crammed together in the dark, but then, there was no guarantee that ending up here meant any of them were going to live either.

The tailgate slammed into place a second before they were thrown into motion. Glancing up, she noticed that they were driving through the forest. Trees intermittently blocked the view of the clear night sky, making it impossible for her to determine exactly where they were. The forest was a good ten miles out of town, which was nearly twenty miles from the hotel where Prom was held.

_How could anything move that far that fast?_

Pain swelled in her head, forcing consciousness under a lick layer of heaviness. She shook it off, trying to stay lucid as long as she could. Any clues that she could get about their surroundings would help if they somehow escaped.

Only a handful of minutes later the truck stopped and forceful hands grabbed her. The distinct sound of lace tearing made her groan. She'd saved up for months to afford this damn dress. Roughy McHandsy could at least take it easy on the couture. It was pitch-black as she moved away from the truck. The moon and stars were gone. If it wasn't for the sounds of snapping twigs and leaves rustling above she might think they had left the woods. Her freshly manicured toes sunk into mud and she knew her two-hundred dollar heels were toast too.

She could hear the sounds of her fellow students being dragged around her. No one struggled, or if they did it didn't make much difference. She wanted to fight, wanted to turn around and kick the asshole who was trying to yank her arms out of their sockets in the crotch so hard he'd sing soprano for the remainder of his miserable days, but she knew a thing or two about survival 101. Rule number one was to play it smart.

She grunted when they hit stairs, wondering if the lights had gone out or if she had simply gone blind. Her headache had evolved into a burning white brand of pain that she was surprisingly almost numb to now. Her stomach twisted and she tasted bile in the back of her mouth. Maybe she wasn't as numb to the pain as she thought. She stumbled up the stairs, taking a deep breath when she was shoved through a room. She could smell pine needles and kerosene. Her captor kicked her legs out from under her, forcing her to kneel on a cold wooden floor.

"Light the candles please Monroe," a very elegant sounding male voice requested.

Fear started to settle into her bones as the room slowly lit with the soft glow of candles. Everything was mostly cast in shadows but she could make out one man standing in front of the group.

He was dressed in a finely tailored suit complete with red and black striped tie. She was impressed with what little she could make out of his attire. No one in Mystic Falls bothered to dress with such classy taste.

_Great,_ she thought, _finally meet someone with fashion sense and they're a homicidal maniac. _

"Welcome," the man said, drawing her focus to his face. The definition of his features were cloaked by the shadows but she make out a strong jaw and light colored eyes. His body language told her more about him than his face would have. He stood with confidence and comfort. He wasn't afraid of being found any time soon. "You are all now my guests. Please know that your lives will end soon, but do not worry. Your deaths will not be without meaning. You have been selected for a very worthy cause."

He nodded and the room was washed back into darkness.

Caroline stopped fighting to stay awake, closing her eyes and falling into whatever would happen next.


	2. Chapter 1: From bad to worse

**Welcome back. Still unbeta'd and I'm still sorry about any mistakes. Thanks for reading! **

**I don't own any of these characters or worlds. I'm just playing with them.**

(Six hours earlier)

"What?" she shrieked, leaping up from her bed in frustration. "He can't back out now! Who in the blue blazes of Mystic Falls am I going to get to go with me now?"

Caroline paced the small space of her bedroom, rolling her eyes at every suggestion her friend Bonnie offered. "Matt? You want me to slurp up Elena Gilbert's sloppy seconds? Please, Bonnie," she stuck out her tongue, "I _do _have some standards."

"Well, Care, you better lower that bar in the next three hours, otherwise you'll be taking your high horse to the prom instead of a date."

Stomping her feet, Caroline flopped face-first on to her bed. Why did Tyler have to leave town now?

"Are you _sure_ he's gone?"

There was a short pause and she pictured Bonnie counting to ten before she lost her temper and just hung up. "Yes. I told you. He stopped by the front office this afternoon during fifth period. He said his family was leaving town before school got out. Something about his mom getting a job offer in California somewhere."

Aggravation rumbled in her chest.

"What are you so upset about?" Bonnie sighed. "Weren't you just telling me yesterday that you planned on breaking up with him?"

"Uh, yeah… but not until _after_ graduation," Caroline rolled on to her back.

"Well if you don't care about the guy then why is it so important—"

"It's not that I don't care about him. It's just that… he's high school boyfriend material." She twirled a lock of her blond curly hair between two fingers as she pictured a dead-end life in Mystic Falls as Tyler Lockwood's wife. "Tyler planned on sticking around this place and I want to get out."

"Guess he got the jump on you with that, then."

Caroline groaned. "But why did he have to leave _now_? Why today? Why couldn't he give me this one night and then…drive off into the sunset and spare me the break up scene a la _Sweet November._"

"A, you're not Charlize Theron and you're not dying of a terminal illness, so stop being so dramatic."

Caroline held the phone away from her cheek and made a face at the receiver.

"And B, maybe he felt you pulling away already and he's sparing himself the humiliation of a night with the girl he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Maybe he wanted tonight to be special and he knew you were going to just crush his heart—"

"Don't try to convince he's not a jerk for doing this, Bon."

"I'm done trying to convince you of anything. I've got a hair appointment to catch and a prom to get ready for."

Caroline's heart dropped into her toes. "Who asked you to go?"

Bonnie scoffed, and Caroline flinched at the angry tone that slipped into her voice. "It so happens, Caroline Forbes that you are not the only girl in Mystic Falls."

"I didn't mean it that way—"

"I have to go."

"Oh come on, Bon, you know I didn't mean it that way." The dial tone blared in response. Caroline tossed the phone across her bed, rolling on to her side. This would officially go down in her book of horrible high school experiences as the worst night of her life.

"Knock, knock." Her mom called from the other side of her door.

"I don't want to talk, Mom."

"I just wanted to say goodnight to you before I started my shift. Remember to have your dad take lots of pictures of you in your dress."

She pulled her legs in tight against her body, sulking. "Okay."

The resentment that usually followed with knowing her mother would miss out on yet another important moment in her life was dulled by the grief she felt over losing her date three hours before prom.

He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.

Another knock shook her door. "Care, sweetie," her dad said, "what time is Tyler picking you up? Isn't it almost time for you to head out?"

She glanced at the clock. An hour and a half had flown by while she did nothing but wallow.

"Care?"

"Come in." She sat up, kicking her manicured feet out from under her.

Her dad walked in, eyeing her and spotting her dress still hanging from her closet door.

"I don't know a lot about the girly way of getting ready," he sat next to her on the bed, "but I'm pretty sure this isn't it."

She frowned. "I'm mostly ready. Did my hair this morning and nails yesterday at the salon."

He nodded, looking at the closet. "And that? You don't think you should put it on at some point?"

She stared at the soft pink shimmery gown. It was Grecian cut with lace trim around the bodice. It was her dream dress—perfect down to the way it hugged her curves and hid her flaws. She saved up for nearly six months to be able to afford it. The day she brought it home she just sat on the floor staring up at it, giddy with the anticipation of finally wearing it.

She felt sick at the idea of putting it on now.

"Tyler's not coming to pick me up."

Her dad nudged her with his elbow. "You wanna talk about it?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "No."

"Well," he looked back at her dress, "I hope you saved the receipt so you could return the dress."

She gaped at her dad. "What are you talking about? I worked two jobs, held my spot as head cheerleader on the varsity cheer squad and kept up my grade point average just to get that dress." Her cheeks flushed with outrage. How dare he even suggest that?

"So…you're not giving up then?" He raised his brows, challenging her with a look.

She tried to hold back her smile. "What kind of Forbes would I be if I just threw in the towel over some boy?"

A wide smile split her dad's face. "That's my girl." He stood, giving her a hug. "Get dressed. I'll drive you to the hotel if you want."

"No," she waved her arms in the air, holding her head up high. "I'll drive myself. I'm no damsel in distress."

She dressed quickly, finishing up her make up with the precision of a beautician ninja. Even with rushing she knew she would arrive late, but there was nothing like making a fashionably late entrance to say "screw you, Tyler". Her dad kissed her goodnight and warned her to stay away from the boys.

The drive to the hotel seemed to stretch on for days and yet when she cut the engine to her car she felt like she needed more time. Her stomach growled as she stared at the entrance to the Beaumont hotel.

_Damn. Forgot to eat dinner._

"Standing me up for prom was obnoxious, but ditching me without buying me dinner is just plain rude."

She sat back in her car, watching her fellow classmates as they entered the lobby of the hotel. Groups of kids laughed and danced, barely able to contain their excitement as they headed inside. There were a few couples making out in the parking lot and she noticed one car with very steamy windows.

"That's brave."

A swarm of bees started buzzing in her stomach at the thought of walking in there alone. Everyone would see her and know she was alone. Elena and her new boyfriend Stefan would tear her apart with their beady eyes. Matt would give her the puppy dog look. And the entire night will be nothing but defeat.

"Maybe I should just go home." Pride did have its limits.

A particularly loud laugh drew her attention to the side of the hotel. Bonnie walked up to the front steps, throwing her head back and laughing again. Caroline felt like crap seeing her having so much fun. She'd been so wrapped up in her plans with Tyler that she didn't stop to think Bonnie might be going to prom. Bonnie hadn't told her anything about having a date to prom. She hadn't even expressed an interest in going at all until this afternoon. That's all she meant on the phone. She didn't mean to imply that—

Bonnie stepped aside and Caroline got a clear look at her date.

"Wha…" She squeaked. "Tyler?"

She must have said his name loud enough that they could hear, because they both turned in her direction.

Rage rippled across her skin like a cool spring breeze. There they stood. Her best friend and her recently split boyfriend. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted tux. His tie was a pale blue that matched Bonnie's dress perfectly. Her eyes traveled the length of her friend's dress. It was simple but elegant, floor length and high-waisted. This wasn't some last minute plan. They matched down to the blue flower tucked in Tyler's lapel that matched one conspicuously planted on Bonnie's wrist.

Pride be damned. There was no way she was turning tail and hiding at home now. Caroline jumped out of her car, slamming the door and stomping her blush pink heels all the way to the front steps. Holding her head high she walked straight past the betrayal couple.

"Caroline?" Bonnie shouted.

She stopped long enough to hand her ticket to the junior classman at the door, but made a beeline for the drink table once she was inside. Thankfully she had wasted enough time sitting outside that half the school was already in attendance. She had to fight her way to the refreshments table, slapping more than one stray hand away from her backside. She tried to melt into the crowd, hoping she didn't stand out like a sore pastel pink thumb when Bonnie and Tyler entered the ballroom.

"You got anything harder than Hawaiian punch?" She asked the girl pouring glasses when she reached the front of the line.

The girl looked over her shoulder, nodding toward the back corner. "Ask for Damon."

"Salvatore?" Caroline made a face, but hiked up her skirt and worked through more of the swaying amoeba of high schoolers.

Damon sat in the far corner, reclined back with both his legs on a chair in front of him. Caroline shot her eyes heavenward. This night just kept going from bad to "can I find the fast forward button already?" Salvatore was the lame loser who everyone was pretty sure turned eighteen when Bill Clinton was president, but he held on and kept showing up for school every year just so he could consider himself "cool".

_I can't believe I'm going to do this._

"Hi." She waved her hand awkwardly when she was close enough to talk to him.

Damon ran his eyes up and down her body, settling them on her face for a few too many seconds before speaking. "You're that chick Tyler banged last summer, right?"

Caroline mashed her teeth together. "Caroline. My name is Caroline." She forced a tight smile on her lips.

He shrugged, boldly holding a bottle of beer to his lips.

"Where did you get that?"

He choked mid drink, glaring at her for making him spill it. "I brought it in. Why? You gonna go narc to your mama sheriff?"

Caroline's shoulders straightened. "If I was you'd already be in handcuffs. I'm here for…something…" she waved her hand at the bottle.

Damon looked to his beer and back up at her, smirking. "You ever taste a drop in your life?"

She squirmed, recalling last summer when Tyler introduced her to a little thing called Tequila. _Never again._

"Does it matter?"

"Hell yeah it does," he laughed, "your ass gets stinking drunk off one beer and makes a scene and then it gets back to me. No thanks, narc."

Her cheeks flushed and she threw her hands down against the table. "Stop calling me that." Damon jumped at the force of her words. "Give me a damn drink, or else every adult in town will be on your ass in ten seconds."

Sighing as if he could care less about spending another summer in juvey, he reached in his pocket and handed her a small clear bottle.

"You get caught… it was all your idea."

Caroline snatched the bottle, greedily ripping the lid off and guzzling it down. It was fast acting, burning all the down her throat and twisting her empty stomach. She swayed as she worked her way back through the crowd. She could see Bonnie and Tyler standing by the drinks table. Bonnie was wearing a worried looked on her face. It might have been the alcohol but Caroline wanted to slap the frown off her face. How dare she feel bad? She lied to her, making her think that Tyler had left her, not traded her in for a new model.

Tyler leaned in and whispered something in Bonnie's ear, forcing a slight smile that smoothed her frown away.

"Seriously?"

"Something wrong, Love?"

She turned glassy eyes on a guy standing at the prom queen voting booth. Everything was growing fuzzy, but she could make out brilliant blue eyes and sandy blond hair…and lips. He had full, succulent lips. Nothing like Tyler's pencil lips that felt like she was kissing shoestrings whenever he pressed them against hers.

"I bet you're a good kisser." Her words slurred together, making her giggle.

He smiled, thrusting those luscious lips out further for her inspection.

"Was that an invitation, Love?"

"Huh?" she slapped her hand down against the table, leaning in to see if she could figure out why he sounded like he had a British accent.

A scream split through the room. The music screeched to a stop and the crowd froze with a collective gasp. Caroline turned back to look at Mr. Plump lips only to find him missing.

Another scream sounded, and Caroline fought for sobriety, leaning heavily against the nearest student she could find.

"Care?"

_Oh great, Tyler._

"What's happening?" she whispered, trying to stand on her tip-toes to see over the crowd.

"No idea."

The lights shut off, blinding everyone. Growls filled the edges of the room.

"What the hell?"

More screams and then all hell broke loose. People started running and shoving. Caroline fell to her knees, feeling something thick and wet on the floor.

"What is that?" She fished her phone out of her clutch, pressing the power button to use it as a flashlight. It cast a muted green glow just far enough for her to make out someone in front her. She crawled, making a face when she slipped in more of the mysterious ooze.

She reached the person in front of her, realizing it was Bonnie. "I'm putting the shit fest of my romantic life aside," she announced, looking into the darkness of the ballroom when someone screamed really loud near them. "Bon, what's going on?"

Bonnie didn't say anything and she pressed the power button on her phone again, holding it closer to Bonnie's face. Bonnie's eyes were wide open, but she wasn't moving.

"Bonnie…"

She pressed her hand against her shoulder, shoving her. "Bonnie…"

Bonnie was covered in something wet too. Caroline held her hand up to the light of her phone, screaming. Blood covered her hand and arm.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she scrambled through what she now knew was a river of blood to stand up. There were more bodies on the floor now, and still people were running and shoving, trying to get out.

"The doors are locked!" someone screamed from the other side of the room.

The growling grew louder. Caroline shook with terror.

"This is some Sunnydale shit."

A shiver ran down her spine and she froze in place. She felt instead of heard something stalking her from behind. The booze in her blood was affecting her agility, but it also gave her courage to make a run for it. She bolted to the stage, screaming when something caught her around the waist.

"Ah," a warm sultry voice whispered in her ear. "You're coming with me, Love."


	3. Chapter 2: Trust and Guts

**Thanks for reading. For those who know Supernatural I'm placing us in the middle of season 2- after John died but before Sam is kidnapped. **

"Shit, shit, shit!"

The Impala swerved into oncoming traffic. Dean focused on the road, praying like hell his little brother was keeping his eyes on the monster.

"It's catching up," Sam leaned out the window.

"Get your ass back in here," Dean yanked Sam's arm with one hand, steering around a semi-truck with the other. The truck's horn screeched through the window as it flew by. "You wanna even out our height difference all of the sudden or something?"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He shifted gears, seeing an opening as the light turned red. He narrowly missed side-swiping a silver Honda. More horns honked behind them.

"We need to get away from all these innocent people."

"You think, Sammy?"

He punched the stick, turning up another busy street. "Did you get a better look at it this time?"

"Yeah, it's a Fury."

"And what's that again?" Dean kept his pulse controlled, his heart idling in tune with the rev of the Impala's engine as he sped through a red light.

Sam looked back between the seats, snagging a book he had tossed in the floor. He flipped through several pages. "It's a creature from Greek myth. Most commonly described as a female who dwells in the underworld and rises to strike vengeance on those who "have sworn a false oath"."

"Sounds like that chick I met in Minnesota."

"We might have a problem." Sam scanned through a few more pages.

"Yeah? Wha—"

The car stopped, and yet it didn't. Dean felt like he was being pulled backwards even though the Impala was still driving forward. He shoved his foot down so hard on the gas pedal that he expected it to plunge through the floorboard. The Impala didn't move, but he could hear the tires spinning.

"What the hell?"

"Dean—" Sam looked out the back window.

Dean checked his rearview mirrors, seeing a bright light growing behind them.

"Sam…tell me we're about to be abducted by aliens." He glanced back to see the thing head-on. "That damn well better be E.T. phoning us back there."

"I don't think so. It's the Fury's light."

"What the shit is that?"

Dean shoved harder on the gas. He felt the Impala's ass fishtail as the whole car moved backward.

"Sam…how do we kill it?"

Sam stared at the light, transfixed.

Dean snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Sam…how do we kill it?"

Blinking, his baby brother turned to him and shook his head. "We can't."

"What?" Everything could be killed. "Keep reading. Come on." Dean reached for his gun tucked under his seat. "How do we stop this thing?"

Sam sighed. "We don't. It's here to claim the soul of one who made a false oath. It's a…soul repo man."

Dean checked his bullets. He was running low.

"Silver bullet?"

"No."

"Sun light?"

"Nope."

"Can we curse it back to the underworld and burn it with the wood of some holy tree?" He was reaching for anything. "Wear bras on our heads and chant the lyrics to Somewhere Over the Rainbow backwards?"

Sam shot him a solemn look. "It's not something that can be stopped, Dean. It has no weakness, nothing can harm it," he looked back to the window and the bright light that was steadily getting closer, "but it's nothing to fear."

Dean leaned forward, wishing like hell his baby could get some traction and break free of the force pulling them back so they could get away.

"The hell it ain't."

"It won't hurt anyone but the guilty."

Dean's breath was choked from his lungs as he tried to swallow. "All of us are guilty of something." He cut his eyes to the rearview mirror, seeing a pair of ice blue eyes staring back at him. A chill ran down his spine.

"It won't hurt us, Dean. Trust me. We'll pass through it and we'll be safe."

Sam's conviction sounded genuine. He really believed they would be okay. But that's because Sam was a good kid with a clear conscience.

Dean's chest constricted. He'd made a few promises in his life he never made good on. What if this bitch purged him for that? What if she knew what their dad had done to bring him back from death?

"_If it comes down to it, you might have to kill Sam, Dean."_ His dad's words echoed in his head, spiking his already runaway panic.

"I can't, Sammy. We've gotta jump out of the car."

"Dean…don't," Sam warned, shaking his head. "Just trust me. It needs to know where to find the guilty and it thinks we know."

"We do know, Sam. McGuffin hired us to keep him safe from this thing."

"McGuffin made an oath to the Devil first."

The light touched the back bumper and Dean's heart hammered against his ribs.

"Come on, Sammy," he threw open his door, "on three."

"No."

"One."

"Dean, please just trust me."

The light spread over the trunk and touched the bottom of the back window.

"Two."

"Trust me."

The rays of the light shot through the interior of the car.

"Three. Jump Sam!"

Dean jumped, tucking in to his body as he rolled on to the asphalt. Everything was washed in an overwhelming white light that blinded him as he rolled further from the car. The light swelled and burst, followed instantly by the shroud of night. He ended up on his back, staring up at the night sky. His neck hurt and his hands were cut up from rubbing the asphalt.

It was quiet, no other cars on the road as he sat up. The only sound was the Impala's engine, idling where it sat a few feet from him.

"Sam?" Dean scrambled to his feet, jumping into the car to find his brother.

Sam's seat was empty.

"Sam?" Dean tore through the car, looking the backseat and all over as if Sam could hide all six feet, four inches of himself under a jacket.

"No…no…no…come on Sam. Why didn't you just jump?"

"Because I didn't have to."

Dean jumped at the sound of Sam's voice. Sam walked up to lean against the hood of the car, his hands in the pockets of his faded blue jeans. His messy brown hair fell across his eyes as he smirked at his big brother. Dean had never been so thankful to see his damn annoying smirk in his life.

Naturally he kept that relief to himself and glared at the kid. "What happened?"

Sam shrugged. "I told you, the Fury just needed some information. She passed through and took off."

"How did you end up out here?"

"You knocked your head pretty hard, Dean. You've been out for about five minutes."

"Really?" Dean ran a hand along the back of his head, wincing when he hit a soft spot.

Sam chuckled.

"Shut up."

"Dude you full-on stop, dropped and rolled like a punk."

"You wanna walk back to the motel?"

Dean climbed in and slammed his door shut, waiting for Sam to join him. When the kid idiot sat down he shot him a warning glare.

Sam held a straight face till Dean turned over the engine. He laughed, falling forward and Dean considered shoving his ass out on the highway without slowing down.

"So, now what? We find old man McGuffin and warn him?"

Sam sobered instantly. "We can't. Well…I mean we can but it won't matter. There's no way to stop the Fury."

Dean grumbled under his breath. "So what? We just get the hell out of dodge and don't look back?" He shot Sam an incredulous look.

Sam's young shoulders rose and fell. "Yeah. Not much we can do. If we stick around we'll just have to deal with the fall out."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you."

"What?"

"You're seriously going all Mr. Miyagi Zen about this? Since when are you okay with people dying?"

"McGuffin made a deal with the Devil. He offered his _soul_ to evil in exchange for something. Then he tried to back out of it. That doesn't exactly make him an innocent that needs our saving."

Tightening his grip around the steering wheel, Dean choked down his response. Their dad had done the same thing to save his life, and he'd be goddamned if let Sam stand in his way of saving their dad from a fate in Hell.

"_You have to do it, Dean. If it comes down to it, you have to kill him."_

He shook his head, turning on to the highway without another thought about McGuffin.

They drove for a few hours, night turning into mid-morning before the silence in the car was broken. A ringing sounded from the glove box.

"One of Dad's."

Sam opened the glove compartment, fishing around and pulling out three mobile phones before finding the one that was ringing.

"Hello?"

Dean waited while Sam talked to the mystery caller. There was the general exchange- "Yeah this is John's phone. No, he can't talk now. He's actually dead." Dean still felt like he was being punched in the chest when someone mentioned their dad's death. Sam talked on, saying "uh-huh" a lot. Deep in his gut he could feel it—they were about to get a new case. His skin felt tight with anticipation and his foot pressed down a little harder on the gas pedal.

"Where did you say?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced over, making eye contact with Sam.

"Mystic Falls, Virginia," Sam repeated out loud.

Dean nodded, making a 'u' in the middle of the deserted highway. They were about five hours north of Virginia. They'd be there by dinner time.

Sam hung up the phone, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a clear page. He scribbled some notes down.

"What we got?"

"Dunno. An attack at a prom. Bunch of kids were killed and some were taken hostage."

"Why did they call us?"

"Guy said it has to do with a case he worked with Dad about eighteen years ago."

Sam rummaged through the back floorboard, producing their dad's journal a few minutes later. He started flipping through the pages.

"Anything?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope. No mention of Mystic Falls or this guy, Mr. Forbes."

"Oh goody," Dean cracked a smile, pressing play on the tape deck. _Hells Bells_ started blaring through the speakers. He shoved the gas pedal to the floor and settled in for the trip.


	4. Chapter 3: Darkness closes in

**Thanks for reading. And special thanks to Kharizzmatik for both all of our WC work and for introducing me to the Vampire Academy books. If you haven't read those books, get on it. **

"Hey, Care? Care? Wake up."

The world flooded her senses, sucking her out of a dreamless sleep and back into consciousness.

"Uh."

"You okay, Care?"

Nausea swirled in her stomach. She was acutely aware of her whole body at once, because every inch of it throbbed in pain. Tyler kept asking her stupid questions like "are you okay?" and "where do you think we are?" Of course she wasn't okay. She was kidnapped last night. And how in the hell was she supposed to know where they were? She'd been passed out since they got here. For a second she contemplated playing possum so she could ignore him altogether.

A loud bang made her flinch. She sat up, staring into darkness with wide eyes.

"What was that?"

Something scooted closer to her and when the puke-inducing intensity of aftershave hit her nose she realized it was Tyler. Had she ever found that scent alluring?

"They've been doing it for the past couple of minutes. No idea why."

She realized the noise must have been what woke her. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, like she was swimming in taffy. The thought of sticky sweet candy made her cup her hand over her mouth to hold in a gag. She was hungover, dizzy and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Muscling through the urge to upend the contents of her stomach, she lowered her hand.

"Are there any others?" She ground the words out through tightly clenched teeth, drawing in slow breaths to calm her stomach. That was a mistake. The stench of rotting dirt filled her nostrils.

She bent over, hoping she was facing away from anyone in the room with her, and vomited until she felt like her toes were lodged in her esophagus. Her entire body locked down as the spasms took control.

"You okay?"

_What did I ever see in you, Tyler?_

"Fine Tyler," she choked out between dry heaves, "just peachy."

Another bang made them both jump.

Caroline tried to focus her eyes. The absence of light made her feel like she was literally blind. She touched her face to check for a blindfold. She had never experienced anything like it. There was always light somewhere in the world, but not here.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Dunno," Tyler shifted and she imagined him tucking one of his legs under him in that casual lean that he did in bed. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being in bed with Tyler. "After they cut the lights they started grabbing people in pairs. I caught you when you passed out so they took us together."

_Fate has a real hilarious sense of humor_, she figured. The guy who dropped her only a handful of hours ago was suddenly her hero here?

"Screw that."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, dropping it into her hands. The throbbing that had started after the attack was back, pulsating as if her brain was growing too big for her skull. Each breath she drew in seemed to intensify the pulse. She squeezed her hands against her scalp to hold her brain in.

"You hear that?"

For a horrifying moment she was afraid her brain really was expanding and Tyler could hear it, but then she held her breath, listening. An eerie beat was distantly drumming. It grew louder, closer. Her heart beat in rhythm with the drumming, stammering frantically in her chest. It reminded her of the shark from _Jaws_. Louder. Faster. Closer. Eventually it was right upon them, making the darkness around her seem to pulse and close in on her. It built faster and faster, ending with two sharp, violent bangs.

Caroline squeaked in surprise at the end, feeling very much like a mouse in a trap.

"It's gonna be okay, Care." She felt Tyler's hand inch closer to hers and she didn't pull away when he locked their fingers together.

Her lips were sticking to her teeth, making it hard to close her mouth and catch her breath. Heart racing and body burning in pain, she braced herself for what was coming.

Another loud bang shook the darkness. Her breath caught in her throat as something metal made a low scraping sound. The whine of hinges creaking followed and Caroline felt tears well in her eyes. She was scared shitless, but held her head up high, clutching Tyler's hand.

"Hmm," a menacing voice hummed.

Caroline's eyes scanned the blackness in front of them, desperate for a slither of light to make sense of the world she was trapped in.

"That one."

Her heart stalled, choking the breath from her body. Which one? What was this about? Why wasn't she asking these questions out loud? What was happening? Her thoughts were whizzing by so fast she couldn't think.

A single footstep echoed towards her.

Her heart slammed into a frenzy.

"No," she screamed. Terror so intense that she could taste it on her tongue seized her. Caroline scrambled back, releasing Tyler's hand. "Please no."

"Caroline," Tyler shouted.

There were sounds of struggle. Caroline shook with fear, going fetal and praying for her life. Glimpses of the hell from prom came back to her in a rush. She recalled Bonnie's dead eyes staring up at her. She screamed, digging her nails into her scalp.

"Please. No don't hurt me." Tears ran down her cheeks, joining the snot running from her nose and drool dripping from her mouth. Caroline quaked on the ground, pleading to live.

"I don't wanna die…I don't wanna die…"

Screams filled the room. She wasn't sure if they were hers or someone else's. Something cold slid along her arm and Caroline felt the shaky boundaries of consciousness fading away again.

There was another loud bang and then… everything was silent.

Caroline blinked, seeing nothing but the empty blackness.

"Tyler?"

* * *

"Please…don't hurt me…" Tyler blubbered as he was marched through the dark hallway. He stumbled, his feet like bricks underneath him. Whoever these assholes were that kidnapped them, they were strong. Tyler had been playing sports since he was a kid. He'd won three state football championships so far in high school and he was undefeated on the varsity wrestling team. But he felt like a ragdoll being tossed around between two giants right now.

"Your pleas are pointless, boy," a voice warned in front of him. The voice was cold, calm, as if he were placing an order for coffee at Starbucks instead of threatening his life.

Tyler recognized the voice—it was the guy who spoke last night, after they arrived at the cabin. The mastermind of the whole attack. "You're…you're gonna kill me?"

Fear like he'd never imagined shook Tyler's spine. He felt weak, ready to pass out.

"I am going to make an example out of you, Mr. Lockwood."

They reached a set of stairs and his captors dragged him up them.

"You know who I am?"

The lead guy didn't speak again. They walked through the cabin and out into the woods. It was early morning, just before dawn. Soft white light kissed everything and fog covered the ground. Every sound was contained like they were in a box. Dirt crunched under their feet, and the sound seemed to echo around him. Tyler scanned his eyes around. He didn't recognize this place.

How far had they traveled last night?

"Put him in the back of the truck and lock him down."

Tyler looked over his shoulder, following the mastermind with his eyes. The guy looked young—maybe a few years old than him. He had short, brown hair and wore a suit that only Caroline would be able to identify. His skin was pale, like he made a point to stay out of the sun. That's all Tyler saw before he was dragged to the pickup parked on the dirt road.

"Come on guys," Tyler pleaded, looking between the two burly dudes who were hoisting him into the truck bed, "you don't have to do this. My mom is _loaded_. She'll pay whatever you want—"

"She will pay, Mr. Lockwood." The mastermind had joined them at the truck.

Tyler jumped. One guy chained his hands above him while the other spread his legs out and chained his ankles down. He was spread eagle across the truck bed as the mastermind dude hopped up on to the tailgate.

The man stared down at him with red tinted eyes. In his hands he held a silver dagger. Tyler felt sweat coat his body. He could taste copper in his mouth.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

The man's scarlet eyes scanned the length of Tyler's body. He sighed, still too casual for the moment. "If you must know, my name is Elijah. And," he knelt between Tyler's legs, tearing open his shirt. Fear pinned Tyler in place. He was staring into the eyes of his own death and he knew it. "I'm collecting a debt."

Tyler's screams echoed in the dense forest, forcing a flock of ravens to take flight.


	5. Chapter 4: Shit gets real

**Thanks for reading. And thank you Khar for your words of wisdom- "****The only good Tyler is a disemboweled Tyler." I can't help but agree. **

**I own nothing. Enjoy.**

The sun rose, casting everything in a soft orange light. Dean rolled his window down, enjoying the crisp cool air. May was his favorite time of year no matter what part of the country they found themselves in. The days had that sweet balance of bitter cold in the morning and gentle heat during the day. The combating weather warned that summer was on the horizon but winter wasn't going down without a fight.

He liked that.

The Impala was purring like a contented cat. Bob Dylan played quietly on the radio—_Knocking on Heaven's Door_. He shot his eyes to his right, watching his baby brother sleep. In this moment, Dean was at peace. He stored it away in his mind—the only Polaroid he ever owned.

Not having a luxurious life on the road wasn't some sacrifice for him. It was just life. Ever since he was a kid, this was all he knew. Sleeping in dirty motels, eating greasy fast food and killing monsters.

They had crossed into Virginia around five am. Mystic Falls had been another hour from the state line. Dean pulled up to a four-way-stop, staring at the 'Welcome to Mystic Falls' sign on the other side of the road. It wasn't the sign or even the forest behind it that held his attention, though. Dark storm clouds settled in the sky. He looked out his side window—blue clear skies with chirping birds. Across the street, just beyond the sign, a black shadow coated the sky.

Lightning struck a spot in the center of the street. Dean wasn't able to count more than one hippopotamus before thunder boomed so loud it shook the car frame.

Sam snorted awake. "What the—"

"I don't think we have to worry about finding a case here, Sammy."

Sam shot him a confused look, rubbing his eyes. Dean pointed across the street to the shadowed land. Sam scooted around in his seat, still rubbing his eyes and adjusting his jacket as if he had wound himself up in it while sleeping.

Dean hid a smile behind his hand. Didn't matter how big Sam got, he'd always be that little kid he used to watch over.

"That's abnormal weather." Sam blinked rapidly, staring at the clouds like they weren't in focus for him yet.

"You missed your true calling."

Sam gave him a quizzical look.

"You should have got a job stating the obvious for CNN."

Sam groaned.

"I'm serious," Dean laughed when Sam shoved his shoulder, "this kind of reporting is breaking news worthy."

"Shut up." Sam yawned around his words.

"Where are we meeting this Forbes guy?"

Sam rubbed his nose, checking the messages on their dad's phone. "Says to meet him at the Beaumont Hotel."

"And we're just supposed to know where that is?"

Sam yawned again, stretching his arms out far enough to block Dean's view of the road.

"I'm sorry, princess did the storm disturb your beauty sleep?"

Sam scratched his chin, shrugging. "Haven't been getting much sleep lately. I think this was the most I've gotten since—" His words dropped off and Dean picked up the conversation like a fumbled hot potato.

"So you still seeing dead people in your dreams?"

Sam ignored him, suddenly fascinated by the view out the side window.

That was Dean's cue to let up on the brake and head on into the storm.

Sam shifted in his seat. "Weird, isn't it?"

"What's that?"

"That we never get to go to the beach."

Dean shot him a look. "What?"

Sam inclined his head to the forest. "Why are all paranormal creatures so in love with trees? Would it kill one of them to be like creature from the black lagoon? I could use a good tan."

Considering his words, Dean smirked "You got a point. Well," he glanced at Sam's face, "I don't think you need to get any more tan. You're looking like you work for Willy Wonka lately."

Sam glared. "Bite me."

Dean laughed. "Pass."

The thunder kept up all the way into town. It was pretty easy to find the hotel after all. Mystic Falls wasn't much bigger than a good spit. Dean cut the engine and took in the spectacle. Crime scene tape surrounded the entire block. Blood was still caked into the asphalt even though a firefighter was hosing it down diligently. Emergency response teams ran this way and that.

"This is all still pretty fresh," he noted, seeing a man and a woman seated at the back of an ambulance. The man held a towel against the side of his head and the woman screamed as the EMT's tried to coax her down onto a gurney. They sedated her and Dean grimaced.

"Check it out." Sam nodded out the side window.

A group of teenagers had assembled at the back corner of the lot. They held candles and flowers in their hands.

"You go find Forbes," Dean said, pulling the keys out of the ignition, "I'll work the crowd and see what I can see."

Dean slid his hands in the pockets of worn, dark blue jeans, moseying over to the gaggle of teens. The air was even colder outside of the car—it burned his lungs as he breathed it in. His cowboy boots sunk into the soft dirt that surrounded the outer edge of parking lot. The ambulance flicked on its lights, leaving the siren silent and drove straight towards him. He stopped to let it exit, nodding to the driver that the street was clear.

One of the kids watched it drive away. She looked to be roughly seventeen, maybe eighteen with long brown hair and big brown eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she held a hand over her mouth.

Dean narrowed in on her, walking up with a somber expression.

"Someone you know?"

The girl sniffed, shaking her head emphatically and glancing back to the hotel.

"Any of you see what happened here last night?"

A few of the kids turned in his direction, eyes going wide at the mention of last night. Most shook their heads sadly, reacting exactly like the weeping brunette. A few gave him a suspicious look, but shook their heads as well.

"We're all underclassmen." A boy standing at the front of the pack, holding a candle, turned around. "Most of us were working in the lobby when the guys showed up."

Dean found his new best friend. "You," he pointed that the kid, "follow me."

To his relief the kid did as he asked, handing his candle to the tight-lipped brunette.

"What's your name?"

The kid slid his hands in his pockets and sighed. "You first."

The kid's 'tude tickled Dean a bit. A sly smirk turned his lips as he pulled out a Federal Marshall badge. "Marshall Lennon."

It was risky. They didn't know what the hell they were walking into since Sam never got a hold of Forbes directly. He hoped whatever had happened here would be within a Marshall's jurisdiction. And even more specifically he hoped 'tude-boy didn't know any better if it didn't.

The kid looked at the badge for a minute and nodded. "My name's Donovan."

"Donovan?" Dean echoed, raising his brows.

"Donovan Forbes."

Jackpot with the first quarter. "Any relation to Bill Forbes?"

"Yeah, he's my uncle." He nodded toward the hotel and Dean spotted Sam talking to a guy near the front door.

"What happened here tonight, Donnie?"

The kid narrowed his eyes at the nickname but shook it off. "Dunno. It happened so fast. Those guys…those _things…_"

Things? That caught Dean's attention. Things were his specialty.

"What did you see, kid?"

Donovan's eyes glazed over and he stared off in the distance. "The power went out all of the sudden and we heard…growling."

"Growling?"

"Yeah, like…like a pack of wolves was roaming through the halls or something. This group of guys... all of them older…like in their twenties—"

Dean let that one go without a comment.

"They were all dressed in really nice suits. They looked like some prom committee or something. They breezed right by us…no problem. But then…"

Donovan's eyes wandered down to the ground. His face grew pale. Dean glanced down and saw why. There was blood pooled at the edge of the dirt.

He drew Donnie's eyes back up to him. Keep him focused and talking. "What happened next, Don?"

He swallowed, running a hand through his blonde hair. "They locked the doors so…so none of us could get in and then…" he cringed. "Then the screaming…and the banging. It was like hearing caged animals trying to break out. We tried to help but we couldn't get in and then…then…" Don grew green around the gills.

Dean took a step back, giving the kid room to blow if he needed to. "Then?"

"Blood started oozing from under the door. So thick…like a river. It was so…so…" That's when Don lost the battle with dinner and upended his stomach on the ground.

Dean patted his back. "It's gonna be okay, kid."

Sam walked up, glancing between the puking boy and his brother. He gave Dean a quizzical look and Dean just shrugged.

"Well?"

Sam slid a notepad into his jacket pocket, looking down at Don when he started to heave harder. "Um…he just got a call. They found something at the edge of town. We're gonna follow the trooper." He nodded to the brown state trooper car that flicked its lights on.

"Awesome." Dean looked back down at Donovan. He patted the kid on the back again. "Thanks for your help, kid."

"You're just going to leave him there?"

Dean shot Sam a look as they climbed into the Impala. "You think we should bring him with us so he has more material for puking?"

Sighing Sam rolled his eyes. "No. But…"

"But what? He's fine. There's like two billion ambulances around there."

"Your compassion is astounding, Dean."

"Why thank you, Sammy."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"And yet I still took it as one."

Sam glared at him and he blew him a kiss. "Fill me in on this Forbes dude."

"Well…I don't know too many specifics but I can promise you one thing—"

"What?"

"He's a hunter."

"His name isn't ringing any bells." Dean knew the name of most hunters in the business. It was a rule of thumb. Hunters were a tight community, throwing each other bones whenever they could to help cons or bring down monsters.

"I think he's retired, but whatever, you can see it in his eyes."

That made sense. Dean knew exactly what look Sam was talking about.

"What happened last night? All I got out of Donovan was that this group of well-dressed _old_ people showed up and made a river of blood."

"That's about all they have so far too. That and seventeen kids were kidnapped."

"Seventeen?" That was an odd number. It didn't mean shit to any ritual that Dean could think of off the top of his head.

"Yeah. Forbes doesn't have any leads either."

"I thought he said this related to a case he worked with Dad?"

"Yeah, he said that again just now, but he didn't want to go into specifics."

"Great," Dean followed the cop car as it turned up a dirt road off into the forest, "a hunter who is living off the grid and doesn't like to share information."

"Yeah." Dean's worries echoed in the sound of Sam's voice.

"Keep your eyes open."

The trooper stopped and Dean parked.

"Here goes nothing."

They followed Bill Forbes and the state trooper further into the woods. Dean noticed that the forest was silent. No birds or wildlife around to make noise.

"Sam…what clears wildlife out?"

Sam scanned his database in his brain as they walked. "Most animals run when a predator is near."

"Predator? Like a bigger animal?"

Sam nodded.

They wove through a few more patches of trees and found a clearing. A pickup truck was parked in the middle of the clearing.

"Shit's about to get real, Sammy."

They walked slowly, not too eager to find what was in the truck. Bill Forbes reached it first. Dean noticed a look of pure relief wash over the man's face before horror filled it.

They rounded the end of the truck and gasped. Dean covered his nose, hoping he didn't lose his lunch like poor Donovan. The stench of rotting entrails filled the air.

Pinned down in the bed was a teenage boy. The kid's face was contorted with terror. His body was pulled tight from intense pain. And his abdomen was sliced open.

Sam hopped up into the truck bed, all business while Dean dry heaved. He leaned down, inspecting the wound.

"His stomach's missing."

Bill Forbes hung his head in grief. "Oh Tyler—"

"Is this one of the kids who was kidnapped last night?" Dean asked.

Bill nodded. "Yes."


	6. Chapter 5: Just breathe

**Thanks for reading.**

The kids were moved three times following Tyler's disappearance. Each time was the same—that violent, tormenting pounding would grow and startle everyone awake. Hands grabbed in the darkness. Daylight, disorienting and harsh, blinded them as they were shoved into the back of another truck.

Caroline huddled in the corner of the truck bed, face pressed to her knees as they traveled to the fourth mysterious destination. She didn't bother to look at their surroundings. What was the use of knowing the location? These guys were impossible to fight. Payphones were out of reach. It was pointless to care where they were going.

Depression and grief pulled her further inward. That night…when Tyler was taken… it replayed in her mind on a loop like an annoying Katy Perry song at the mall. Over and over she heard the screams, felt the pain and quaked with fear.

No one had mentioned Tyler's disappearance. That bothered her at first, but honestly, Caroline didn't know who else had been taken from prom. She'd done a rough count in her head from what she remembered in the cabin, but she couldn't see faces.

Tyler was the first, but he wasn't the last.

Every morning someone mentioned another name.

"Stefan?" A female had whispered two days ago. "Has anyone seen Stefan?"

Caroline kept her eyes on her fingernails, picking at the dirt and grime that was caked under them. She hadn't seen Stefan, and she knew she never would again. The voice kept asking, leaning further away from Caroline.

"No," was the universal answer.

No. No one had seen him. No one had heard him scream. No one realized that it was only a matter of time before their names joined the list.

Caroline realized it. And she kept her head down.

Yesterday's name sparked a pang of emotion in Caroline's chest. "Elena? Where did Elena go?"

She'd never been good friends with Elena Gilbert, but she knew her. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she knew all of these people.

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to hear today's name, praying that there wouldn't be one.

"Any of you see Matt? He was in the truck yesterday but…"

Tyler.

Stefan.

Elena.

Matt.

God, these were the names she should be reading in her yearbook on the last day of school, not the list of missing persons. She pounded her face against her knees, hugging her arms around her legs. It was surprisingly easy to do since the bad guys weren't bothering with restraining them with tape anymore.

The truck stopped and offhandedly she noted that today's ride was shorter than the last. The information was useless, but she stored it in her mind anyway. You didn't grow up the daughter of Sheriff and a Wilderness Explorer Guide and not notice those kinds of things. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun.

She would give it to the bad guys, they were pretty damn clever. And they could dress. She couldn't deny that. Even the grunts wore polished suits that looked like they cost more than her dad's car. If the way she was treated was any indication, they were skilled at torturing and keeping prisoners incapacitated. She was starved and exhausted, making her too weak to even want to fight back. She never got more than an hour or so of sleep, constantly scared awake by random sounds. The "prisons" they were kept in were all the same—so dark and black that Caroline was beginning to understand what a blind person saw. Reversely, they only moved during the day. The stark contrast of pitch black to bright sun was disorienting on all of her senses, making her feel like a top spinning on the edge of a table. These guys weren't just random criminals, or even just typical murderers.

These were skilled, evil baddies.

A shiver ran down her spine. Why couldn't they just be cotton candy thugs looking to score some money?

They all crawled out of the pick up like trained dogs when the guy in the really nice suit showed up. He told them to line up in front of the shack. Caroline caught a glimpse of what he was talking about—it was a small, worn down shack with a metal chimney attached to the roof. Why were they here? They all couldn't fit in that place. Her eyes closed automatically and she didn't fight it. The sun was so painful. She was actually getting pretty good at moving around in the dark. She followed the sound of everyone's feet and stopped when the sound stopped.

People around her jumped and shoved closer. She heard a sharp buzzing noise and then more people jumped.

"Move."

A few people cried out and Caroline jumped when she heard the buzzing right next to her. She'd heard that before…when…for some reason it reminded her of Bonnie…

That was it. It was a cattle prod. Bonnie made her watch a video about the treatment of cattle to talk her out of eating big bacon cheeseburgers one summer. It didn't work. Caroline assured her that all burgers she ate were made in humane ways with willing cows and Bonnie had rolled her eyes in a huff.

Hearing the device used on her classmates freaked her out. Everyone was pushing in, pinning her into the middle of the crowd. Not good. Flashbacks of prom started in. Her palms grew sweaty as her heart raced in her chest. She fought for air through shallow, labored breaths.

"It's okay," a foreign voice whispered near her ear. Caroline flinched at the proximity of the voice. Bodies were closing in around her and she couldn't breathe. "Just focus on drawing in a slow deep breath."

She was choking. "Help," she tried to scream, but the word was strangled into a garble of noise.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and everything was going black for a different reason than keeping her eyes closed.

"It's okay," the voice insisted.

"Stop." Her voice was a soft whisper, but it was the loudest plea.

Warm hands rested on her shoulders and she started to shake.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay." That same voice kept at it. She realized he was the one touching her and she tried to focus on the warmth of his hands and the calmness in his voice. Slowly, after what felt like days, she started to relax. The tension eased from her and she tentatively opened her eyes.

Gorgeous blue eyes were staring straight into hers. Unlike her, he didn't seem so overwhelmed by the sun, watching her with an intensity that unnerved her at first.

"Th-thanks," she stuttered, awkwardly. Everyone was still pushing in around them. The prodding had stopped but everyone was freaked out. Caroline could feel the panic rising in her again.

"Don't," he said, laying his hand against her cheek to refocus her eyes on his. "Don't think about it. Just breathe."

She gave him the two-second-once-over. He was tall, a good five inches taller than she was in her heels. He had sandy blonde hair that was cut short, but was long enough to curl around the edges. He wasn't broad like Tyler or thick like Matt, but he wasn't some scrawny geek either. Wiry…she'd heard her dad talk about boxers with that description. This guy looked like he could hold up his end of fight with tricky foot work. She bit her lip as she took in his face. He wasn't just handsome, he was…damn she internally clenched…he was beautiful. Lips so full she wanted to just lean over and bite them. Cheeks so high and sharp that she could cut glass with them. And those eyes. She felt like she was drowning in the ocean as she looked into his eyes.

Something was familiar about that…

"Who are you?" she asked, not recognizing him at all. She ran through the mental images of all the senior class. He wasn't someone she knew. And yet, he was so familiar to her.

_That's cause he's the man of your dreams._ She internally fanned herself.

He shook his head, looking up past her shoulder. Caroline tried to see what he was looking at, but strong hands closed around her waist.

"No!" The subtle hold she had on her terror broke and she flipped out. Screaming, scratching, and foaming at the mouth.

"Leave her alone," hot boy shouted. He kicked the owner of the grabby hands and earned a punch to the face for it.

Caroline was locked in fear, just like she had been with Tyler. The hands dropped her and she cowered on the ground, crying as her savior was dragged to the shack.


End file.
